


Strangers on the Train, Friends on the Sidewalk

by ACatWhoWrites, baeconandeggs



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Office, Baeconandeggs Exchange 2018, Cat/Human Hybrids, Community: baeconandeggs, Hybrids, M/M, Slice of Life, Strangers to Friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-05-07 12:53:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14671509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACatWhoWrites/pseuds/ACatWhoWrites, https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs
Summary: Chanyeol never thought he’d be adopted at his age.





	Strangers on the Train, Friends on the Sidewalk

**Author's Note:**

> (Prompt no. BAE194)  
>  **Disclaimer: baeconandeggs/the mods is/are not the author/s of this story. Authors will be credited and tagged after reveals.** The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chanyeol’s ready and out the door at a decent hour, for the first time in a long while. It’s nobody’s fault but his own, really. When he watches a show, it's not week by week, new episode by new episode. It's all or nothing, and with the season of a drama he was excited for finally over, he downloads them all and queues them up with his laptop connected to his television. Once his workday is done, he's home and parked on the sofa with take-out or leftovers and doesn't move until way past his respectable bedtime. When his eyes are dry and hurt, he'll turn it off and shuffle on to bed, just to sleep through his series of alarms and barely have time to shower and dress before running down the street to catch his train.

His friends completely understand why he's an anti-social zombie during the day and tried staging interventions. They've lectured and scolded him. Inevitably, they end up on the sofa with him, absorbed in the events even though they've seen it all before. Chanyeol takes it as a sign of a good show, even if the ending is awful.

After finishing whatever show, he returns to his regularly scheduled programming and becomes a fully functional, responsible adult again. He's in bed on time and wakes up agreeably.

With all of his faculties firing on all cylinders, he even has the energy and drive to make himself a real breakfast, coffee and all. 

On the first day of his regular return, it’s a totally different crowd outside when he leaves, more school uniforms than suits. He thinks he prefers the suit crowd, though; they’re not as zombie-like and don't bring back uncalled for memories of his school days. The last thing he wants is to be standing next to a young girl and suddenly turn beet red.

At his second train, there is a couple minutes wait, which is fine, since it’s still early. Not having to rush is such a wonderful change of pace that Chanyeol checks his watch and leans against the cinderblock pillar a safe distance from the tracks, setting his bag between his feet to play on his phone. He doesn’t pay attention to anything in particular, just content to be on time and not wear the weight of time-restriction. 

He feels something after a little waiting.

Not a physical something, at first, more like he’s being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck and along his arms rise, the spider-leggy feeling crawling along his scalp as well, and he barely catches himself from jumping when someone touches his arm. 

His expectations for someone asking about the train or the time or if they’ve seen him on TV, but instead he meets the doe-eyed gaze of a young man. His hair is a soft brown, just a couple shades lighter than his eyes, but the token feature is the long, silver tail slowly weaving behind him. The puppy-eyes suggest a stray dog, but with how fast Chanyeol’s nose is itching, he knows this stray is actually a cat. 

“Don’t cling to me, please. I have a train to catch.” It arrives on cue, but the cat’s grip tightens, and his tail droops.

_Don't leave me._

Chanyeol’s not heartless—quite the opposite; his heart is very squishy and soft for all things cute and lost—but he just can’t with too much dander, and he needs to get on the train. The next one would bring him in late.

When he takes the cat’s wrist to remove him, he catches the eye of a student with multiple social justice pins on their jacket and backpack, phone threateningly in hand. 

The absolute last thing Chanyeol needs is a video of him circulating online with a caption about how he abused, neglected, and abandoned a cat in a public train station. 

“C’mon,” he mutters, grabbing the cat’s elbow and pulling him into the train car. 

The cat doesn’t seem to mind a bit of man-handling and sticks unnecessarily close, pulling his tail around to his front and holding onto Chanyeol rather than a pole or strap—although, to be fair, Chanyeol’s as good as a pole or strap, with his height. 

Most of the train ignores them, although a small child pulls against her mother’s hold to try and touch the kitty. He responds well, simply smiling and waving but making no move otherwise. He obviously has manners and social training, and standing so close, Chanyeol can’t smell the cat, so he’s clean. His hair is a little long, maybe, and his nails need a trim; the holes in his jeans can be considered fashionable. 

Chanyeol usually spaces out on the ride to work, going over what needs to be done or hasn’t been done or was done wrong, because there’s nothing about standing in a moving sardine can that alleviates anxiety. Today, however, he thinks about the cat and his fearless, wordless attachment. 

Maybe he was just dropped off, and Chanyeol reminds him of his guardian. He could have nowhere else to go and grabbed onto the first object of familiarity. 

“This is my stop,” Chanyeol says, laying a hand on the cat’s shoulder. He jumps and turns fast to face the doors, almost losing his balance as the train’s brakes slow the cars. For a cat, he’s not displaying a whole lot of grace, but he seems sweet, waving again to the child before letting Chanyeol gently push him to disembark. 

His ears are up and forward as much as they can, beneath his hat. Chanyeol thinks it must be uncomfortable, like trying to wear a sleeping bag and walking, but the cat shows no signs of discomfort, and his tail is weaving behind him. 

Chanyeol’s work is just a block from the train station, so they have to cross one street; Chanyeol has to grab the cat by the back of the coat to keep him from just walking into traffic. He sticks unnecessarily close again after that, holding his tail to nervously flatten the fur but watching everything with eager eyes. 

Inside, Chanyeol smiles at the secretary and ushers the cat into an elevator before he can ask any questions. They aren’t unwelcome, but they’re uncommon enough that people wonder and pry and are just general pests. 

In the elevator, the cat releases his tail and watches with rapt attention as the buttons light up. He jumps when Chanyeol speaks. 

“What's your name?” When the cat doesn't answer, he poses another easy question: “How old are you?” 

The cat scratches an ear through his hat and looks interested in his reflection on the polished metal wall. 

Maybe the cat can't speak or doesn't know the language, although his reactions appear rather deliberate to Chanyeol. “ _Can_ you speak?” 

The tail wags slowly. 

“Are you just going to ignore me? Why did you grab onto me in the train station?” 

Grilling the cat is getting him nowhere. He sighs and waves a hand when the elevator dings and the doors open. “Come on. Straight down the hall.” Down a hall lined with offices, it opens up to a spacious room with sofas, a few cubicles, and more glass-walled offices. Chanyeol’s is at the far end, still new enough that they haven’t etched his name into the door, yet. 

It's like his shadow has an actual presence. He can almost feel the cat's merry tail wagging behind him as he takes everything in. Chanyeol does catch his hand before he can touch a shiny plaque—Twenty Years of Engineering Excellence. “Hands to yourself, please.”

He may as well be talking to the wall. Not five steps later, the cat’s reaching for another display, laid out with clean, shiny examples of products the company has previously designed. It’s like dealing with a toddler; Chanyeol grabs the cat’s hand and just about drags him through the hall.

Steering the young cat by the shoulders, Chanyeol propels him into his office, gently pushes him to sit on a sofa against the far wall from the door and drops his bag and coat beside him.

“Wait in here, I guess,” he says. “In case it wasn’t obvious, I have work. No one here minds, so feel free to take off your hat and coat. Just...try not to break anything, okay?” 

Predictably, the cat says nothing and makes a beeline for the outer window, leaving handprints when he leans against it to see better. The traffic looks small, even just a few stories up, and there's a park a couple blocks away with tall trees that rival some surrounding buildings in height.

Chanyeol watches for a few anxious seconds, but the cat's absorbed in the bird's nest that has become occupied again; he thinks it's the same pair that returns to breed. He leaves quietly, closing the door behind him, and heads for one of the secretaries. She’s an older woman, already a grandmother, has been at the company for longer than just about everyone, and has a purse like Mary Poppins’ carpet bag. 

“Hello, Mrs. Jang.” 

“Chanyeol! Good morning. When did you get a cat?” 

“He got me this morning.” He rubs over his sinuses, willing them to obey him. “Do you have an allergy pill in your purse?” 

“Of course, dear.” 

“In case we don't say it enough—You're a life saver. Thank you so much.” He keeps an eye on his office and sees the cat poking around his desk. He jumps suddenly, and Chanyeol sighs. 

“Be patient with him,” Mrs. Jang says kindly. She gets up to retrieve a cup of water from the dispenser, although Chanyeol says he can get it himself. He loves this woman dearly, but sometimes she babies their co-workers. A true office mom. 

“I am trying. He wouldn’t tell me anything when I asked, though, so I hope he’s not like a fugitive or something.” It’d be just his luck if he unknowingly harbored a mass murderer or bank robber or super villain. 

Mrs. Jang eases back onto her seat. “Just get through today, and I have headache pills if you need, later.” 

“Thank you.” 

“If he gets to be too much, ask him to come sit with me, okay? I'll welcome his company.”

The cat’s focused out the window again when Chanyeol returns, standing stiffly and watching Chanyeol's reflection. The container of pens is on the floor, and the cat’s tail is twice its original size, lashing a little. “My pens jumped...” He dumps them back into their cup, sets it in a drawer, and just looks at the cat. He's removed his hat, freeing his ears which sit back against his hair. They match his tail, silvery or gray-ish in color. 

“For now,” Chanyeol says, sitting on his desk chair, “make yourself comfortable. I'm stuck here today—sometimes, I travel to customers, but it's a phone call and paperwork day—so if you get restless, go wander. The lady out there says you can hang out by her, if you want.” He spins himself to face his desk and scoots closer, pulling his laptop out of his bag while powering up the desktop tower.

Silence is strange, when two people are in a closed office. Chanyeol expects to hear shuffling and sighing and normal living-people sounds, white noise, and subconsciously focuses on trying to pick up any noises. The cat's silent, however. Even walking over the plush rug Chanyeol chose for the small sitting area, there's nothing until the cat paces back towards a bookshelf and his tail twitches against the front of Chanyeol's desk, making a small _thoom_ sound that scares them both.

After soothing his tail, the cat returns to the sofa and sits somewhat stiffly. Chanyeol's seen the behavior before; he actually was the same way, when he was younger. Children wanting company but not wanting to be a nuisance while also wanting attention or acknowledgment.

“You're making me nervous,” he says, offering what he hopes is a kind smile. “ _It's okay_ to explore or talk or whatever. I can still work. I just don't want you breaking something or hurting yourself.” After a beat of more silence, he prompts, “Okay?”

And the cat nods. He scratches an ear and gets to his feet, straightening the engraved name plate on Chanyeol's desk— Park Chanyeol, Pneumatic Sales Specialist.

Keeping an eye on his visitor, Chanyeol swipes at his nose with the back of his hand and picks up the phone to call a client about a recent order. He'd been on site to oversee the installation and gives a week or so to check up on how it's working.

The man he talks to is jovial and has nothing but praise, sharing plans about expanding his business and would Chanyeol be willing to provide parts for more machines? _Of course...that sounds like a plan...I can do that...send me details in an email..._ It's mundane but good to hear, and Chanyeol hangs up with a positive feeling that he manages to hold onto, even when one of his calls goes south due to a shipping error Chanyeol had no control of.

Mrs. Jang checks in around mid-morning, bringing coffee and a snack and introducing herself to the cat, who appears reserved but not shy, still saying nothing but bowing politely.

Chanyeol pushes away from his desk to stretch. With coffee in-hand, he spins slowly, stopping when he's facing the window and nudging himself back and forth. He sees the cat's reflection in the window, eyeing the food.

“Help yourself. I actually ate breakfast this morning; I'm still full.”

For such a slight looking character, the cat can pack away food.

And like any typical cat, food makes him sleepy. There's a perfectly comfortable, long sofa against the wall, and curtains can be drawn to give a bit of privacy; Chanyeol's spent many afternoons and even evenings on his sofa and can vouch for its comfiness.

In true cat fashion, however, he circles around the desk, where the sun angles through the window to warm Chanyeol's back. The cat hikes up a leg and slips it between Chanyeol's back and the back of the chair. Chanyeol grabs the desk and leans forward to keep them from tipping. “What are you—? Hey back there!” He can't twist enough to see what the cat's doing, but ends up with a foreign ankle on either of his legs and a weight against his back. “Figures you'd be cuddly. Are you content?” He gets a deep purr, which vibrates through his spine and ribs. In the main office, he sees Mrs. Jang laughing to herself and some co-workers watching curiously. “Great. Just take a nap or something.”

The cat doesn't need to be told twice. After some grunting and shifting and sighing, he's situated along Chanyeol's back, adopting him as a body pillow. The tip of an ear twitches at Chanyeol's hairline. He has to draw the line when the cat's hands start kneading his waist; he's ticklish. Pulling the cat's arms around him like a belt seems to suit him fine, and the heart beating against Chanyeol's back isn't as distracting as he'd assume.

“Since we seem to be at some stage of familiarity,” he remarks softly, “will you tell me your name, now?”

The response is a jaw in his back and head rolling forward and back. _No._

Maybe he'll reveal it another day. Getting through a day at a time is hard enough without expectations.

Leaving the cat to sleep, since he's out of the way and not getting into anything, Chanyeol gets through more invoices and answers the more pressing emails, leaving the meaner ones for later, just out of spite. He always answers within a business day or two.

Lunch is late, and he forgets about his chairmate until he leans back to stretch and feels a lump that whines at him when squished.

The cat makes a bigger deal out of it than Chanyeol thinks is necessary, re-situating himself on the sofa and meticulously straightening his tail and brushing his hair out of his eyes and around his ears just so. Food appeases him, as it does most living things; he eats most of the chicken Chanyeol orders and manages to weasel some from Mrs. Jang without saying anything. She waves at Chanyeol through the window. _It's fine. Go back to work._

Work isn't as interesting as the cat is wandering the main office, peering into cubicles and greeting Chanyeol's co-workers with friendly smiles, if a little reserved. He seems anxious until reassured that he isn't being a pest.

Maybe he's not a homeless stray, Chanyeol muses. His manners are too good; he's very friendly, but he has that nervous edge to him that is often seen in the abused, neglected, and abandoned. 

He could simply be a little neurotic. “Which makes him fit in here just fine,” Chanyeol mumbles to himself, chin propped on his hand. He doesn't realize he's staring until a junior co-worker waves uncertainly.

The cat returns with a score of snacks, beaming. He presents Chanyeol with a red sucker and a yellow sucker, probably from Mrs. Jang's purse. Chanyeol chooses red, which seems to be a good choice to the cat, who happily unwraps the yellow one and dumps the rest of his haul on the sofa, sitting on the floor to paw through it all.

When he next looks, Chanyeol thinks the cat's asleep again. What a life to lead; he's jealous. If he had the means, he'd stop working and just eat, sleep, and watch TV.

Unfortunately, he has to be a Responsible Adult™ and work for a living, so he returns to his emails and online product catalogs.

The candy lasts longer than usual, because he forgets it's in his mouth and dries against his cheek. Biting on it wakes the cat, and he sits upright with quick jerks of his head to take in his surroundings and finally whirling around to see that he's not alone.

“You alright?” The shadow of a plane floats across the partly drawn blinds. “I'm almost done here, if you wanna clean up your wrappers and things.” The cat blushes and ducks his head, gathering everything in his hands at once to hide the evidence of his binge. In the fading sunlight, his gray fur turns brown. 

They've almost made it through the day, and he still has no idea what to do with the cat. He doesn't mind putting him up for a night or two and dosing himself up with allergy pills; the cat appears perfectly harmless and hasn't shown any indication of needing to be anywhere else.

Mrs. Jang must see the resignation in his face, because she pats his arm when he leaves for the night, cat tailing him and tucking his ear carefully beneath his hat again.

The elevator ride is completely silent, not uncomfortable. The cat's closeness doesn't feel intrusive, and Chanyeol immediately misses it when they're in front of the building and the cat stops just outside the doors. He's looking up and down the street and at Chanyeol and at his feet.

He's waiting for an invitation, Chanyeol thinks. He'd not been the friendliest when the cat had first grabbed onto him, and he's sure the cat remembers. “You coming?”

The cat carefully steps up beside him and takes his hand, smiling softly when Chanyeol doesn't let go.

**Author's Note:**

> So, Chanyeol just kind of takes Baekhyun, rather than Baekhyun following him relentlessly, but it's safer in the city with traffic, and if a cat adopted me in the subway, I'd do the same thing.


End file.
